


Domestic Life suits Dean Winchester

by AlysWren



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dom!Cas, M/M, PWP, Shameless Smut, Sub!Dean, Tumblr Prompt, domestic!Dean, i'm not even sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-29
Updated: 2014-01-29
Packaged: 2018-01-10 11:29:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1159177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlysWren/pseuds/AlysWren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Dean Winchester accidentally ignores his Angel in favor of nesting in his new home, Castiel decides to take matters into his own hands, to remind Dean that he was still there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Domestic Life suits Dean Winchester

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous Tumblr Prompt: Top!Cas domestic!Dean smut in the batcave please?? 
> 
> Okay, so… domestic!dean is so out of my element, i think I did horribly on this one. I tried… i’m sorry if it’s nothing close to what you were expecting! *hides* 
> 
> I posted this MONTHS and MONTHS ago on my supersecret Destiel Tumblr ( http://deancassmut.tumblr.com/ ) - and have decided to publish it elsewhere because, upon rereading it, I decided that it wasn't 100% horrible, and deserved to be shared.

Okay, so maybe Dean didn’t ease into having an actual place to call his ‘home,’ so much as he dove in headfirst without any safety gear. These Men of Letters knew their shit. This place had everything he could possibly have thought to ask for. Old fashioned as all the furniture was, it looked modern… ish. And Dean didn’t mind in the least. I mean, have you SEEN this kitchen? It’s fucking gorgeous.

Dean was the kind of man that didn’t have a single god damn word of complaint when he was given a kitchen of his very own with four large ovens, two sinks, four refrigerators, two freezers, and a walk-in pantry.

He told Sam once he was nesting. Fuck that. This nest was already made for him. No, this nest seemed to be made *FOR* him. And that tickled him in ways he couldn’t even admit to himself.

It started easily at first, Dean jumped at every opportunity to cook for himself and his brother. Lunch and Dinner became daily rituals that Dean took great pride in. Compliments were always welcome. It was a bit disappointing when Sam decided to bail, insisting he needed to get away from Dean. Delicious as the food was, Dean’s newfound obsession with cooking was starting to creep him out.

Dean was upset at first, but did his best to not dwell on it. Sam will be Sam, and Dean had long since given up trying to control him. Besides, with Sam out of the way, Dean now had the opportunity to re-organize the bunker. Because, y’know… That couch would look better if it were against that wall, and the coffee table pushed over a few feet…

Castiel had been watching Dean for several hours, keeping himself carefully shielded from human sight. He had never seen Dean this happy before. It perplexed the daylights out of him. How could anyone possibly be THIS happy living a slow-paced homely life? He had to give Dean credit, though. He had not expected Dean to be capable of such trivial domestics, like cooking and house-keeping. Watching the man down fast food and shelf-bought microwavable meals, Castiel honestly didn’t think Dean even knew what a kitchen was.

That assumption was thrown well out the window. Not so much thrown, though. More… blasted out with a rocket launcher. Dean worked around the bunker in blissful ignorance to the celestial being watching his every move. He wasted hours re-fluffing couch pillows, dusting bookshelves, cleaning all the decorations with surprising speed and care.

After three days of watching Dean, Castiel’s patience was wearing thin. They had an arrangement, and Dean wasn’t living up to his end of their deal.

“Dean.” Castiel growled out, making himself visible as Dean finally sat down for a break from his redecorating.

Dean just about jumped out of his skin, leaping from the couch to glare at the angel. “Shit, Cas. Do you have to appear in the same god damn room?” He sighed, ploping back down onto the couch. “Couldn’t you, y’know, materialize in another room and walk in here or something?”

“Dean,” Castiel repeated, his frown deepening. “Explain why you haven’t been praying to me.” He was deeply upset at this, crossing his arms over his chest to display his displeasure.

Dean paled slightly as he realized just what he had done. “Oh shit. Cas,” he began. “Cas, I’m sorry. I just… I got a bit distracted. A little carried away.” Dean figited in his seat, looking anywhere but at Castiel.

“Four days, Dean. We had an agreement.” Castiel did not like when people failed to live up to their word. Humans were fallible and unreliable, he knew that. But his Dean was better. Should have been better.

Dean groaned, leaning back into the couch. “Cas, I’m sorry. Look, I really didn’t mean to. I… How can I make it up to you?” He hated disappointing Castiel, and kicked himself mentally for forgetting their deal. “I’ll do anything, man. Please don’t be angry.”

It wasn’t that he was angry, but Castiel’s disappointment was overwhelming. He had already forgiven his precious Winchester, but he knew that Dean wouldn’t forgive himself unless something was done for him to feel he had earned his forgiveness. “Anything…” Castiel said the word aloud, a statement.

“Yes, please. I’m sorry.” Dean muttered, his eyes lowering to the floor.

“Come here, then.” Castiel uncrossed his arms, pointing to the floorspace directly in front of himself. He wore his frown still, narrowing his eyes slightly as he bore his gaze into Dean’s skull.

Dean didn’t have to look up to see if he was being glared at. He could feel it, and his guilt worsened. He had really fucked up. At this point, he didn’t bother standing. Instead, he slid to his knees and crawled to Castiel, where he lifted himself up only enough to sit on his knees.

“Our agreement was once every day, and you would learn Enochian, Dean. I wanted to teach you Enochian, you wanted to have me in your bed. Why am I the one chasing you down, because you aren’t living up to what YOU wanted in our agreement?” Truth be told, he had wanted it too, which was part of the reason why he had so eagerly accepted Dean’s proposed exchange; two birds one stone. It hurt him that the hunter hadn’t called him to his bed in days. It worried at him that he had done something wrong.

“I forgot, Cas. I got caught up in my settling into this place.” He gestured his arms vaguely.

He hated seeing his Dean so pitiful, but Castiel had known Dean long enough to know that forgiveness wasn’t something he could just give. Dean was the sort of person that, once he feels like his character is cracked, he needed to be completely broken before he’d let forgiveness put him back together again. “I see. And you think I’ll just forgive you?” The words were forced, and sounded wrong in his mouth. For Dean, he would endure. He knew the game. He stepped around Dean, circling the human until he faced Dean’s back.

“No, Cas. I expect you won’t.” Dean slouched, wrapping his arms around himself. “But I am sorry.”

Castiel flicked his wrist, summoning some of what Dean called his ‘Angel Mojo,’ removing Dean’s clothing in a flurry of invisible feathers. He completed his circle around Dean, inclining his head as he looked down at his lover. He unbuckled his belt, ripping it free of the belt loops and tossing it aside. “Come here, and suck me, Dean. Earn your forgiveness.” He said with as steady a voice as he could manage.

Dean looked up at him, eyes wide. He hesitated for only a moment. A moment to realize he could be forgiven, if he worked to earn it. A moment to realize he hadn’t completely fucked up. A moment to realize that his angel still wanted him. He rose up as high as he could on his knees, reaching for the button and zipper of Castiel’s pants. It always made him smile to see that Castiel had taken his advice to remove the boxers. It’s not like they were ever needed, and they were just another layer to get in the way of… stuff.

Castiel frequently used his angel mojo to make himself erect. Sometimes, he just wasn’t in the mood. Sometimes his vessel didn’t find things particularly stimulating, even when Dean tried so hard to please him. Sometimes he didn’t want to disappoint Dean. This was one of those times, another tally to the things he did because he loved Dean.

Dean nuzzled his nose lovingly against the length of Castiel’s hardness, savoring the scent of his sex. He could never really get enough of it. Castiel was addicting, he’d admit that in a heartbeat. Another breath, and he slid his mouth over the angel’s length. He vaguely remembered that once upon a time, his gag reflex was much more sensitive than it was now. That was a long time ago.

Dean swallowed Castiel’s cock with practiced bobs of his head, sucking hard as he pulled away, humming as he slid back down the length. He kept his hands on his thighs, relying only on his mouth.

Castiel moaned, closing his eyes and sank himself into the feeling of the velvet of Dean’s mouth. The searing hot pleasure that he never could brace himself for. Dean was a little too good at this. While that wasn’t always a bad thing… time passed far too quickly. “Dean, stop.”

Dean halted immediately, his lips wrapped around the tip of Castiel’s cock like a large sucker he was just informed he wasn’t allowed to eat. He looked up Castiel’s body with a pleading expression, unable to speak with his mouth full.

“No, no, none of that. I’m going to take what’s mine.” He took a step back, pulling himself out of Dean’s mouth with an obnxious ‘pop.’ Castiel lowered himself onto his knees, pushing Dean’s shoulder backwards.

Dean pouted his displeasure at having his treat removed before he was ready, but still moved compliantly with Castiel’s instructions. He leaned back further and further, shifting only when the stretch became painful for his thighs. He knew Castiel wanted him on his back, and he moved to obey. He took a breath, nodding to himself.

Another flurry of feathers wrapped around Dean, and it took several seconds of rapid blinking for him to adjust to the new change. They had moved. Castiel and his damned angel mojo, moving them both from the living room to Dean’s bed. Always Dean’s bed. Castiel didn’t have a bed.

Castiel had removed his clothing, and was kneeling between Dean’s spread legs. “Relax,” he instructed, sucking on his index and middle fingers, coating them with his saliva.

Dean wanted to think he was used to this but surprisingly, he wasn’t. It still hurt at first. The initial intrusion of the fingers was always on the painful side of uncomfortable. The first finger always caught him off guard. The second finger hurt. By the time Castiel wiggled a third finger into him, the pain had subsided into a dull throb, and he was a writhing mess. “Please,” he begged. He hated waiting, even though he hardly had any right to beg.

“Of course, whenever you are ready.” Castiel forced himself to smirk, knowing full well how the words would be taken by his hunter.

“I…” Dean hesitated, taking a slow breath. “I’m ready. Please…”

Castiel had a hard time saying no to his lover, and now wasn’t a time to change that. He slid himself slowly into Dean, replacing his quickly-removed fingers with the larger intrusion of his throbbing cock. He exhaled slowly, finally, once he sheathed his length into the hunter. He was patient, waiting for any small sign that Dean was ready, and comfortable. He hated hurting his hunter.

Dean groaned, biting down the pain as best as he was able. This was the hard part. Just a minute or two and…. oh, oh that’s much better. He sighed his relief as his body finally relaxed. He wiggled under Cas, trying to move his hips against the angel’s.

Castiel pulled his hips away, pulling himself nearly entirely out of Dean. “Are you sorry?” he asked, his gaze locked on Dean’s face.

Dean stilled instantly, looking wide-eyed up at Castiel. “Yes, Cas. I’m sor—aah!” He choked out a cry as Castiel thrust abruptly into him. “Fuck! Yes, I’m sorry!”

Castiel smiled inwardly. “Say it again.” he purred, pulling himself away a second time.

Dean nodded, understanding the condition of this redemption. “I’m sorry, Ca—ahhh!” He hissed as Castiel thrust harshly into him again.

“Again.” Castiel commanded. It wasn’t the soft lovemaking, or the intense romp either of them were used to. Castiel was firm and strict, refusing to move his hips at all unless Dean was whispering apologies to him. He wasn’t gentle, either. His thrusts were quick, precise, each blow to the elder Winchester’s prostate.

Dean was unraveling under Castiel. He whispered his apologies to Cas over and over, until he actually meant it. Every thrust made him realize how this had nothing to do with their arrangement, but everything to do with Castiel’s fear that Dean didn’t want him anymore. He apologized all the more for that. When he came, it was with an apology, begging Castiel to forgive him for being so selfish.

Castiel smiled then. A soft smile, a real smile. He hadn’t cum; he didn’t need to. This wasn’t about his gratification. This was about Dean realizing that Castiel wasn’t going anywhere. He pulled out of Dean slowly, casting away the mojo that had kept him erect. He leaned forward, pressing his lips gingerly to Dean’s forehead. “I forgive you,” he whipered in the softest voice. 

It was one of many steps, but it was the first step to healing Dean Winchester. Castiel was okay with that.


End file.
